


The Good Witch

by ambersagen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Dean, Dean Whump, Dean/Benny Big Bang 2016, Familiar!Benny, M/M, Takes place right after Gadreel is expelled, Top Benny, Witch AU, not very Sam and Cas friendly but I try to be fair, sad!dean, semi canon, witch!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 05:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7605061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambersagen/pseuds/ambersagen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is poison. He knows this, and his brother and angel must agree as they let him drive away in the dark of the night. Tired and emotionally drained, Dean drives with no destination in mind other than somewhere far away from people he doesn't want to hurt anymore. He may not have a destination in mind, but a destination has picked him. A destination in the form of a magical pull,  a surprisingly docile brown bear, and an offer of a future as one of the very things he has hunted his whole life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, my Dean/Benny Big Bang. I hope you like it.
> 
> All my love to kuwlshadow.tumblr for the amaaaaazing art for this bang. You rocked my socks.

_Broken. Better off gone. POISON._

He drove through the night, trying to let the mindless twists and turns of the road calm his thoughts, but it wasn’t until he was passing along the I-80 heading through Nebraska that any semblance of calm finally broke through his agitation. After hours of churning, it was like a breath of fresh air blew across his thoughts. Probably his mind going loopy from not eating for over twelve hours and running on fumes, but now it was as if something in his gut had settled, like if he could just stop for a bit everything would be different. Like maybe a night’s rest would give him a better perspective or something. Whatever the feeling was it told him he needed to get off the road. He had little left he could trust but his instincts so he didn’t fight the urge.

It was almost automatic the way he pulled off to exit, immediately finding a motel with its vacancy sign lit up right off the main street. He might have suspected witchcraft, except the pull he was feeling could easily be his exhaustion. A little luck with traveling didn’t make up for a lifetime of bad luck, and besides that he didn’t realize until he had wearily jammed the keycard into the lock and pushed the door open that he had, out of habit, gotten a room with two queens.

Reminded again of just how alone he was, Dean chucked his bag onto the spare bed with more force that was necessary. He was going to need plenty of booze to sleep through the night, but his stash had ran dry well before his midnight flight from his brother, and it was too late for liquor stores to be open. Cheap beer would have to do.

With a frustrated sigh he headed back out, hopping his luck would hold and he could find a gas station or something before they stopped selling alcohol for the evening.

His luck didn’t hold, and it was only with the help of his phone app that he was able to find the nearest 7eleven. By then it was creeping on 2 am and he couldn’t even buy beer.

Frustrated and tired he found himself staring numbly at the cold case of leftover sandwiches.

“I probably shouldn’t say this,” a deep, wry voice said from behind him, “Seeing as how I work here and all. But those sandwiches are a soggy, stale mess by now.”

Dean turned, almost in slow motion. That feeling was back, and he almost expected music to start playing like it did in the movies when something life changing was about to happen, like a car crash or a birth.

But there was nothing like that behind him. Instead he was met with the friendly if tired gaze of the gas station attendant.

The man looked like a well groomed trucker. Burly, with a neat beard and tired eyes. He looked a bit old to be working retail.

He stared at Dean with such an intensely expectant look that Dean wondered if he too could feel that weird sense of anticipation between them, and he realized that he had been staring back like an idiot with fog for brains.

“Uhm, good to know,” he said, awkwardly glancing between the sandwiches and the man. “I’m sure my stomach will thank you.”

There was an awkward paused where the guy seemed to expect something more, but Dean didn’t really know what else to say. There was a brief flash of disappointment in the man that Dean felt himself after that weird buildup.

The man sighed. “You want some good food in this town, brother, you should swing by The Breakfast Place. It’s the local diner on 5th street. I work there most afternoons and I can promise you the food is a might better than this swill.”

“Working late nights and long days?” Dean shook his head, running a hand over his stubble with a grimace. “I don’t know where you get the energy.”

The man, ‘Benny’ as his nametag declared with a smiley face sticker, chuckled. He stretched his arms up to the ceiling as he worked the kinks out of his neck and back.

“It helps to have a goal. I want to do better than just _work_ in a diner someday. Owning my own place has been a dream for some time.”

“You must know food then, huh? I guess I better drop by and try it out,” Dean heard himself saying. It seemed like the best idea ever, if it meant he got to see Benny again.

Jesus, what was wrong with him?

“Uh, I’m gonna go, I guess,” he said, pathetically gesturing around in a half-wave half-whatever. “Since, no sandwiches and all.”

Benny, who had been  wearing a pleased grin ever since Dean had promised to come by, nodded and waved him off as Dean awkwardly fumbled his way out of the store.

In the cool night air Dean called himself ten kinds of idiot. What was up with that guy anyway? Was he some kind of siren or something? That must be it. Only a siren could reduce him to a stuttering, blushing mess with just a bat of baby blue eyes and a flex of muscle, arms so big that even though Dean was pretty sure he had a few inches on the guy he was positive that Benny wouldn’t have any trouble throwing him against the nearest wall. He could see the man pinning him there while he had his way with Dean...and he bet that beard would leave the most amazing burn on his thighs when they got to a bed.

He shook himself. Damn it. He kicked the curb in front of the motel, focusing on the sharp pain that stabbed through his toes at the action. If Benny was a siren he wouldn’t have let Dean leave, and Dean was tired, not stupid. He hadn’t ingested anything, not even a damn sandwich, as his grumbling stomach reminded him. No, this was a man crush, probably brought on by his abandonment issues or daddy issues or some other psychological bull. He probably had a complex or something.

He spent the rest of the night checking the local news for odd deaths anyway.

He fell asleep sometime around 6 am, but was woken only a few hours later by the rumbling of his stomach. The obnoxious red of the clock told him it was a little past ten. Benny had said his shift was in the afternoon, and damn it, that weird fluttery expectant feeling was back. Whatever. He had completely failed at being what everyone expected of him, failed as a brother and as a friend. He may as well go and see if he could keep his shit together around a guy he obviously found reasonably attractive, or if he was doomed to fail at keeping that part of himself together too.

He wasn’t under the illusion that he was 100% straight. But Dean had spent his life covering up the fact that he batted for all teams by keeping his womanizing at the forefront of his personality. Sam, hell, everyone, already complained about how promiscuous he was, as if he were some Jane Austen heroine with a reputation to protect. He never saw any reason to give his family more ammo to use against him regarding his sexual life.

All worked up now, Dean threw on his coat and headed out for lunch.

The diner was actually closer than the gas station, and within minutes Dean was nervously pushing the door open, the tinkling sound of the bell covering the sound of his rapidly beating heart in his own ears.

He headed for a booth, just so he wouldn’t be too exposed at the counter, not because he didn’t want to seem too eager. It was bad enough that he showed up right at noon. This resolution to not seem desperate didn’t stop the happy butterflies from showing up again full force when Benny came out of the kitchen with a white apron on and a pad of paper in his hand. Benny seemed equally happy to see Dean, a big grin on his face as he swaggered over to Dean’s booth.

“Hey there, Chief. You actually came.”

“Well, I was promised some of the best food in town.”

“Well whoever told you that knew what they were talking about,” Benny said with a wink that almost caused Dean to choke on his own spit. “So what can I get yah?”

“Is it just you today?” Dean asked, eyes wandering to the other two customers in the joint. He didn’t see any other wait staff in the place, not that it really needed the help.

“Yep. I cook, take orders, even wash the occasional dirty dish,” Benny said, that charming southern drawl like music to Dean’s ears. “I’m a one man band today with Martha out sick. Don’t worry though, the quality of my food is guaranteed.”

Well that’s good,” Dean said, hiding his face in the menu and cursing those damn butterflies. “I think I’m going to need a sandwich with everything on it to make up for last night.”

“One sandwich with everything on it, fries and onion rings?”

“You know it.”

“Right, coming up!”

Benny retreated to the kitchen, taking Dean’s butterflies with him. Once the man was fully out of his sight Dean dropped his head into his hands.

It _was_ a crush, a horrible trick of his traitor libido. There was no denying it….but why should he? Slowly he raised his head. Really though. He was alone, no one who knew him was here to judge.

The wheels were really turning in his head now. Benny was obviously interested, or Dean didn’t know his flirting techniques. He also had a motel room for a few more days. He could do it. He could bring a man home for the night and no one would ever know.

He almost didn’t notice when Benny returned, but his libido must have had a sixth sense for hot men, because the butterflies were back before Benny had even put his plate on the table.

He fumbled out a thanks as the man laid out the food, blushing again as he set a cup of coffee before him with another wink. “On the house. Since you had a late night and all.”

Pensively, Dean took a bite of his sandwich, wondering what he was going to do about his crush, if anything. The second he tasted his meal all romantic concerns flew out of his head as all his attention focused on inhaling his meal. Fuck his gay panic. If this is what Benny’s food tasted like Dean wouldn’t object to marriage.

When Benny came to clear away his plate Dean was trying to decide whether he should ask him out first or order another sandwich.

“Looks like you cleaned this up fast, chief,” Benny said, a pleased smile in his eyes as he reached for the empty plate.

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding when you said you made the best. I’m glad I didn’t waste any stomach space on gas station sandwiches now,” Dean said, turning on the charm. This couldn’t be too much different from picking up women. “In fact, I was wondering if you knew of any other good places around town, places that might be open sometime after you get off,” he leaned in, ready to try his flirty smile out, when his elbow caught the coffee mug. What was left of the beverage went flying, made worse by the quick reflexes of the two men who both fumbled for the glass, tipping it directly onto Dean’s shirt in their attempts to save him. Black coffee, still hot enough to be uncomfortable, spread up across Dean’s chest.

“Shit,” he leaned back, trying not to drip on the already soaked table. There went all his chances of being smooth.

“Aww hell,” Benny said, pulling out a stack of napkins and throwing them over the puddle on the table. “Come on, let’s get that off of yah before it sets in any worse. I have a sink in the back room we can get’cha cleaned up in.”

He guided an embarrassed Dean through the employees only door in the back and into a small, but well organized kitchen. The sink was industrial, large enough for any amount of dishes the customers might send Benny’s way, and Dean wasted no time peeling off his soiled shirt, wiping the last of the coffee off his chest with it. Turning on the faucets to soak his shirt, Dean glanced over at Benny, who was staring intently at his chest with a decidedly interested look on his face.

This was it. Dean leaned back, placing his hands on the counter in a way that he knew flexed his naked chest appealingly. Sure enough, Benny's eyes got big, and something anticipatory was glinting in them as Dean cleared his throat.

"You uhm. You wanna get out of here? I have a room for the week that's a little more private."

Benny grinned, tearing his gaze away from Dean's chest. "And here I was thinking you were a normal guy and I was gonna hafta work to get back to your place."

Dean coughed, a little disconcerted. "Well, I think I'm pretty normal. It’s not like guys like us go around making rainbows or wearing fairy wings all the time."

Benny made a face and laughed. "We'd all be outed pretty fast if that were the case."

Dean waited as Benny continued laughing as he put away the soiled towels. Was it normal for gay guys to be so open about being closeted? Did that thought even make any sense? It’s not like he had any experience asking guys back to his room for a quickie so he kept quiet.

"I get off at 6. Where you staying chief? I'm sure you can find a way to amuse yourself till I can meet you."

“Yeah, right. I’m sure I can think of something,” Dean responded, cursing his sudden fumbling shyness. Women never gave him this much trouble. He sighed inwardly as he gave Benny his contact info and the name of the motel he was staying at, booking it out of there before he could make a bigger fool of himself. He had a few hours to get his shit together and mentally prepare to actually do this with a dude. No pressure or anything. He groaned, sitting shirtless like an idiot in the Impala. Yeah, this was going to go just great.

He didn’t spend his time before Benny’s visit wisely. He may have had a drink or two to loosen up. Hey, he was entitled after all. Thirty-something years old is a bit late to be trying new things with your sexuality and he didn’t think anyone could blame him for his nerves. By the time Benny knocked on his motel door he was pacing a trench in his carpet.

When he opened the door he felt that pull again, and he could practically count his heartbeats slowing and calming when he opened the door to that charming southern smile.

“Right on time,” Dean said, pleased that at least he wouldn’t be waiting around with only his thoughts anymore.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Benny said, stepping easily into the room as Dean waved him in. “Been waiting for you, Dean.”

“Flatterer,” Dean said, stepping up into Benny’s space. Sure, it was a little fast, but the other man seemed ready to go and maybe it was best to keep the small talk to a minimum, at least in his first time with a guy. It would probably be awkward anyway.

The butterflies were going full force, and Dean was positive he must be blushing intensely, because he felt hot all over. Confidently, he reached out to hold Benny’s waist, leaning in toward the slightly shorter man to start the making out portion of the night he had fully been looking forward too. But as soon as he touched him all hell broke loose. The butterflies in his stomach exploded, like lightning hitting him from the inside out, and his gasp was only drowned out by Benny’s own shout. His mind was filled with a roaring, not the rushing roar of an impending blackout, but the roar of some great beast that faded into the background noise of an expectant silence.

Panting, he realized that he and Benny were pressed together, leaning on each other for support as the weird electricity between them solidified into something obviously supernatural.

“What are you?” Dean was cursing himself for hiding all the weapons earlier when he thought this was just a hookup, not wanting to scare Benny off with firepower.

“Jesus, brother. I knew you were going’ta be powerful when I could feel you coming all the way from the interstate. But that was something else,” Benny licked his lips, eyes closed as if savoring the remaining pulse of power. Dean growled, pushing away from him and taking a defensive stance.

“So that was you. Is that how you feed? Luring in unsuspecting travelers and sweet talking them until you get them alone?”

To his surprise Benny just chuckled at that. He sounded genuinely happy, like Dean was being particularly silly and this was just a stupid argument between friends.

“You think with these cooking skills I would go around eating people? Never. That energy you just felt between us, chief? That was our magics getting down an’ dirty with each other. You’re the lucky bastard who gets to be my witch.”

He ignored Dean’s weak headshake, brushing aside his denial with calm eyes.

“Can’t you feel it, brother? Our bond is already there,” he reached out, and Dean did nothing to stop him as he pressed his palm flat right above the hunter’s heart. “I felt you the moment you came in’ta town, knew you were of the good craft when I saw that tattoo you have protecting yah. I gotta say, I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever find me.”

“What are you?” Dean asked again, voice barely above a whisper as he felt that happy, butterfly feeling coming to life under the large, warm hand.

The man grinned, and somehow it seemed a lot less cuddly and a lot deeper than the last time he had flashed a smile Dean’s way. “How bout I show yah? Like I said, you’re my witch, but it might be a little easier to understand if you see for yourself what that means.”

He stepped to the center of the room, hands out in a surrendering gesture no doubt meant to pacify Dean. It just made him feel vaguely mocked. The butterflies in Dean’s stomach were calming down now that the center of their focus had stepped away, but replacing them was a growing warm feeling, comforting in the way that holding a hot water bottle is comforting in the cold of winter.

That feeling grew, and in between one blink and the next Benny changed, though not at all in the movies kind of way. More like tuning an old tv, flitting between man and beast like Dean used to flick between channels. One second Benny was the handsome chef Dean had hoped to take to bed and the next he was a huge, hulking brown bear.

A fucking bear. In the middle of Dean’s motel room.

A familiar chuckle tickled through Dean’s mind. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, but he jumped anyway.

 _“Like I said,”_ Benny’s voice spoke into his mind. _“I’m your familiar and you’re my witch.”_

“No. No way. Sorry buddy, but you’ve got the wrong guy,” Dean said, backing away slowly. “I’m a hunter. I fucking hate witches, man --er, bear. Bear man.”

The bear grumbled , and while it didn’t sound angry Dean was practically shitting himself anyway.

 _“Well, brother,”_ the bear growled inside Dean’s freaking mind. _“That sounds like a good place to start hashing this whole thing out. Why’do hate witches so much?”_

Dean felt the back of his knees hit the bed and cursed himself for letting this thing corner him. Almost as if it could hear his thoughts the bear halted apologetically.

“Why do I--dude. Why wouldn’t I hate witches? They’re animal torturing, bodily fluid spewing curse machines. The way they chop you guys up for their spells I woulda thought you would hate them too.”

The bear rumbled, a very real sound this time that made Dean think of primal man, and whether bears even ate humans anymore.

 _“Did you ever stop to think that maybe that’s exactly what makes you a good witch? Magic like yours is the balance in the universe. For every evil sucker out there chopping up frogs for their potions there’s someone like you to bring back the light. Your magic, and mine, works because we don’t abide by that bull,”_ The bear stepped closer, backing Dean further into the room as he went sideways to avoid the bed. It wasn’t any good as he hit the wall next, cursing the small room and whatever crazy urge had lead him to let Benny into it. _“Hate to break it to yah, Chief, but you’re the good witch of the north.”_

Dean sunk down, legs trembling as he set his weight back against the wall. With a soft thump his ass hit the floor, “Great. So I’m no better than the scum I’ve been hunting my whole life.” He ground his palms into his eyes, hoping he could rub away this reality and have his old life back. When he opened them again all he got instead were painful stars and fading black spots.

A cold nose pressed into the side of his head, its snuffling breath tickling his hair. _“I don’t know how that’s what you got from all this, chief,”_ that warm, rich drawl said in his mind. A strong, furry weight pressed against his side. He wobbled as the bear turned in place, making itself comfortable beside him. Overbalanced he fell back against its warm flank, not even able to bring himself to worry about essentially hugging a bear, Heh, bear hug. If it wanted to eat him, there wasn’t much he could do about it anyway.

_“What part of ‘dark magic is an anathema to you’ makes you think you’re an evil witch? Unless you make a habit of bloodily ending every sap with an ouija board I don’t see how you fall into the same category of those you hunt.”_

Dean screwed his eyes closed, pressing his face into warm fur. “Doesn’t matter what I used to do,” he muttered into the familiar’s side, feeling it rise and fall with each gentle breath the bear took. “Even if I start out good, I’ll find a way to fuck it up. I always do. You should find yourself a different witch, before I get you killed, or worse. Hell, why would you want a witch anyway? Playing servant to some spell wielding asshole can’t be as good as owning your own diner. What about your dreams?”

The bear rumbled contentedly underneath him. _“I think the fact that you’re asking that answers your question. Would you make me give up my dreams?”_

“No,” Dean shook his head, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew it was too good to be true. Even his own familiar wouldn’t stay with him. Fuck, even when he was on the side of evil he couldn’t win.

_“See? I told you, you’re perfect for me. You’ll see,when we’re the proud owners of the best diner in the state that fate knows that she’s doing.”_

“What?” Dean opened his eyes in shock and wasn’t even startled to see a large muzzle inches from his face. Hunters lived and died by their instincts, and his were telling him that he was safe. That in itself should be terrifying enough, but he was so damn tired of fighting everything.

_“Yeah, Chief. You’re sticking around, right? You said yourself that you have nowhere to go, and since you ain’t taking me away I assume you’ll be staying here. As you can see, I have plenty of space for yah.”_

Dean blinked up at the bear, slowly. “Benny I can’t. I told you, I’m a hunter. Hunters aren’t the settling down type.”

 _“Why not?”_ If bears had eyebrows Benny would have been raising his. _“You loved the diner idea, and I know we haven’t known each other that long but it sounded to me like you had a home, wherever you came from. I ain’t your ball and chain, but I am your familiar for a reason. I’m here to be what you need, and it sounds to me, brother, like you need someone to have your back.”_

This was crazy. No, it was beyond crazy. And yet…

“So what, you want me to stay here, play house while you go all Hogwarts on my ass?”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was hitting a dead end on his own, and it had been months since he had heard from Dean. The first night after their big blow out he had been filled with a righteous fury against his brother. He was done with Dean making all the decisions in this family. Lying to him, tricking him into playing host to an angel, when they knew how that kind of deal always went down. He was done.

He was also beyond frustrated. Nothing he could find in any record gave him a way to kill Abbadon. His cell phone lit up, screen showing an incoming call from Cas, who had been out at one of Bobby’s old sheds looking for clues that could lock away this demon. 

“Yeah? What do you have for me, Cas?” Sam answered, praying Cas had come up with something. 

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said, voice tired. “I’m heading back to the bunker. There was nothing at this location either that cast any light on our problem.”

Sam ground his teeth in frustration. “Great. Story’s the same here, so I guess that leaves us with no leads and no options.”

The line was silent, and Sam sat up in anticipation. “Cas?”

“I have a lead on Dean,” Cas said, his usually gravely voice softer. Cas had taken Dean’s absence hard, and had been looking for the elder Winchester after he had failed to get in contact after the first month. Sam had held onto his grudge a little longer, only giving in and providing assistance after the third month had passed and Dean had still maintained radio silence.  

“Where.”

24 hours later Sam was meeting Cas in a small town called Heathridge. Sam almost thought it was a ghost town, but there were three cars parked outside the local diner, so someone must theoretically be around. 

Dubiously, Sam followed Cas into the surprisingly clean dining area, where they waited to be seated. At least in a town this small finding Dean wouldn’t be a problem. Sam doubted a stranger would go unnoticed by the locals in a place like this.  

Turns out he didn’t even have to look. 

“What can I get you fellas today?” a familiar voice said from behind them. “A booth or a table? Non-smoking or smoking?”

“Dean,” Castiel said, in that way of his that seemed to communicate both a question and an answer at the same time. 

“Non-smoking it is, if you’ll follow me.”

“Dean, what the fuck,” Sam said, but was cut off my the look his brother gave him. He settled for stomping off after his brother as they were lead to a booth by the back kitchen door.

“If you’ll wait just a second the chef will have your orders right out for you,” Dean said, ignoring the fact that they hadn’t actually ordered anything yet. He watched them, something calculating in his eye as they sat down at the booth. 

“So are you going to sit down or what,” Sam asked, leaning back in his seat, “Or are you going to make us chase you around here too? Because I have to say, I didn’t think you would waste our time like that.”

With a sigh, Dean scooted in beside Cas. 

They stared at each other in silence. 

“So this is what you’ve been doing this whole time?” Sam said, looking around the diner with that superior look he sometimes got around basic dining establishments like these. “You’ve been flipping burgers instead of helping us kill Abbadon?”

Dean took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I’m not sure where you expected me to be, Sam. You don’t want me as a brother, you were fine with me leaving. Did you think I would come crawling back? Because I’m not sorry for saving you, but I did hear you loud and clear,” he met Sam’s eyes with a startling firmness. “You don’t want a protector, but that’s all I can be for you, it’s all I’ve ever been for you, and I’ll be damned if I let you shit on the one good thing I’ve done in my life.”

Sam rolled his eyes with an indignant huff. “I never asked for you to do any of that, Dean. Whether you want to martyr yourself or not has nothing to do with me.”

‘I don’t know, brother. As I understand it you have been happy to benefit from your brother’s sacrifices as long as you don’t think anything is expected of you for it.” Benny said, suddenly appearing in that way of his with their food. For such a big guy Benny could almost match Cas for stealth. “Play nice now, I’d hate to have to turn away customers.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but leaned back into the seat now that it wasn’t just him and his family. “Guys, this is Benny. He’s been helping me get on my feet here, get my head on straight.”

Sam cast Benny a doubtful look, but relaxed marginally at Dean’s reassurance. Cas, however, stiffened, arm twitching like he wanted to pull out his blade.

"This thing isn’t human," Cas all but growled out.

"Right. That's because he's my familiar."

This statement didn't cause an immediate reaction. There was a confused moment as they looked at each other, Sam and Cas trying to figure out if they had heard right. Dean just stared at them as Benny took a tray of coffee from the waitress and set them on the table. 

“Familiar?” Sam finally croaked out, leaning back uneasily as Benny placed a sandwich in front of him. “Why the hell are you hanging out around a familiar? And what do you mean it’s yours?”

“Sounds like you missed quite a bit of what’s been happening in your brother’s life recently. But I don’t think this is the place to discuss all that. Why don’t you two get a room at the motel on Russel and we can talk later tonight? Because it sounds like you boys have a problem you need fixed.”

With that, Benny gave them all a bland smile and headed back to the kitchen. Dean stood and did the same. 

“Oh, and Sam?” Dean dropped the smile, and his hunting face slid on. “Stop being such an ass. We’ll help you, but don’t ever call Benny an ‘it’ again,” he smiled again. “Enjoy lunch. Here’s our home address. Come find us around 6.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You really think you can just cast a spell and banish a knight of hell?” Sam asked, leaning back in the plush sofa of Dean and Benny’s living room with a mulish expression. “I mean, you’ve only had, what, six months since you, what,  just ‘decided’ to become a witch?” 

Needless to say Sam hadn’t been thrilled when he found out what Dean had been up to while away from them. There had been a tantrum of epic proportions, quite unreasonably focused on Benny and how he must be using his bond with Dean to manipulate him. As if Sam wasn’t usually the one making friends with supernatural beings left and right, and banging them when he felt like it. The irony wasn’t lost on Dean, or even Cas. He remained distrustful of Benny, but was somewhat more willing to work with him after he realized how much better Dean seemed to be doing around him. That didn’t mean either of them were convinced that Dean had the power Benny claimed he did.

“I just don’t see how you think that’s enough time to become the next Harry Potter.”

Benny chuckled, nudging Dean in the ribs. “I can see the family resemblance now, although I thought you said he was the smart one, chief.”

“Excuse you,” Sam said, starting forward, but Dean waved him down. 

“Sit your ass down, Sam. Let Benny talk. Or is it too offensive to think the magical familiar might know a little more about witchcraft than you?”

“Since when do you talk to monsters, much less ask their advice?” Sam asked, staring at his brother in bafflement. 

“Sam,” Cas interrupted, placing a hand on the younger Winchester’s shoulder. “We came for help. I don’t think we should turn it away when it’s offered. Dean has vouched for this creature, I think we should give him a chance.”

Sam shook him off. “We’ve spent months searching for any way to get rid of Abaddon. Don’t you think that if there was a spell that would banish her we would have found it by now?”

Benny rolled his eyes, letting out a rumbling laugh that was just a tad too deep and feral to be human. “So you do practice the craft then. It must be nice to have the advantage of spells without the guilt of actually calling yourself a witch.”

Sam tensed, anger on his face, but Benny rumbled right on over him. “Listen boy. Hunters like you may dabble in spells when it suits you. Your experiences with the supernatural actually allow you to cast the spells that most times folks would fail at. But you lack true connection to the art. Any spell that Dean casts now will have twice the impact as the same spell cast by you. Besides, how do you think all these helpful spells came to be? If he can imagine it, Dean can create a spell for it.”

“Benny…” Dean sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. 

_ “They should know. They put you down but you’re more than they believe yah are.” _

_ “I know, but you don’t need to go all momma bear over my honor _ , _ man,” _ he leaned in, nudging Benny with his shoulder. “Why don’t you explain it to Sam. Go nerdy witch on his ass. I know you like to teach all this stuff. And despite acting like a toddler Sam knows how to listen to reason.”

He ignored their twin groans of protest, heading to the garage, where Cas had wandered off to after the third round of arguing from Sam. 

He found Cas running a gentle hand over the hood of the Impala.

“You seem very at ease around him,” Cas remarked, avoiding Dean’s eyes as Dean walked up beside him.

There had been a time when he thought Cas would be it for him. Cas knew him in ways that no human ever could. In fact, not being human was the biggest draw for Dean at first. Cas was an angel and angels didn’t do human love.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Dean didn’t even shrug it off. It was too serious, or he was finally ready to be serious. Either way. “It kind of comes with the territory. I trust him. I need him. And for once I’m actually needed back.”

“We need you, Dean,” Cas replied, finally meeting his eyes with one of those pleading expressions he had become so good at over the years. 

“Not like I need you to.”

“It could be that way,” Cas replied, stubbornly. 

“Cas. We barely know how to be friends anymore,” Dean said gently, wishing he could take it back as Cas’ expression shattered, but knowing it needed to be said. “It’s like all we know how to do is hurt each other. And I...I deserve better than someone who...hurts me.” 

He stepped forward, reaching out to touch Cas lightly. Cas flinched when Dean’s hand brushed his shoulder, as if he was afraid Dean would reenact the violence between them on his skin. 

“And you deserve someone who’s not me,” he said, hushing Cas when he started to protest. “No, listen. What we have is a profound bond,” he said, grin crooked as he remembered that conversation. “And that’s not ever going to change. But I don’t think that’s what you need. I think, you might need a regular bond. Nothing profound, something free of the pressures and expectations of a Winchester relationship. You deserve someone who just sees you as Cas.”

Cas gave a small frown of denial, but didn’t say anything to that. Dean wasn’t sure if Cas understood, but he hoped the angel would, in time. It was their job now to make sure they would all have time later, to do whatever healing they needed to after years of apocalypses.

With a sigh, Dean slung his arm over Cas’ shoulder, pulling the surprised angel into a side hug and guiding him to the door. “Dude, this doesn’t mean you’re rid of me or anything. Now let’s get back before Benny and Sam try to kill each other.” 

This was familiar enough at least, keeping the peace between everyone in the family. But to Dean’s pleasant surprise he didn’t have to break up a fist fight. He and Cas returned to find Sam and Benny at the old armoire in the corner where Dean kept his spell supplies and shrine. Sam was holding the mirror that Dean had used just that morning to scry for their arrival. 

“So you knew we were coming?” Sam said, examining the runes etched into the silver back of the mirror. 

“Yep,” Dean said, sliding in between them to pull out his casting bowl. “I wanted warning if you guys decided to drop by.”

Sam was quiet as Dean bustled about, pulling out some basic herbs and cleared out a space on their small kitchen table. “If we’re gonna do this I’ll need a little time, and for you guys to do the leg work,” Dean frowned, and Benny brought over a plain, leather bound journal. “Right, thanks.”

“Ok,” Sam said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I guess we’re doing this.”

He got up, stretching out his full length before walking over to Cas, who had remained by the door quietly where Dean left him. “Come on, man. Let’s head back to the motel,” he turned to look warily at Benny. “Do you guys have the stuff you need for this or do we need to bring some things from the bunker?”

“I’ll make a list,” Dean said, waving him out. “Benny and I need to talk and get this figured out before we start really building the spell.”

Sam waved over his shoulder, showing himself out. Cas gave Dean and Benny one last look, face closeted, but Dean could guess at the wariness and disappointment behind the blank stare.

Benny let out an explosive sigh when they were finally alone, easing himself down on the couch. “Well that was trouble and a half. Your brother isn’t a very trusting man, I had to show him your improvements on demon traps and the vampire reversal potion before he stopped looking down his nose at me like  _ he _ was the 300 lb bear in the room.”

Dean snorted, throwing a small baggie of dried sage into the bowl in front of him. After all this arguing the house was feeling a little static. He had always thought that he was just being a mental case in the past, too sensitive about conflict in the family after years of playing middle man in Sam and John’s squabbles. But not long after moving into the small house Benny showed him several basic cleansing spells that worked wonders on how calm he felt in their home. 

Dean looked at his familiar speculatively. “When this is over,” he said, putting the bowl in the center of the table while walking purposefully up to Benny. “I’m going to ride you till you can’t even remember your name, much less worry about what my little brother thinks about anything.”

It wasn’t unusual for familiars and their witches to form romantic bonds. That first spark may not have been a normal crush blooming, but Benny and Dean had eventually fallen into bed together enough that it became, if not a relationship in the conventional sense, more than a friends with benefits kind of deal. Maybe, when this whole Abaddon thing was over and Dean was trained enough in his powers to make more decisions for himself about the future, maybe then he and Benny would take a moment to figure out exactly what, beyond living in each other’s heads and being tied together by their souls, they were going to be together. Until then, they just did what felt good. 

Benny gave an approving rumble, leaning up to catch Dean’s lips with his own. “I’ll hold you to that, chief.”


	4. Chapter 4

“We’re going to bind her to the earth,” Dean said, pulling out the leather bound notebook and flipping it open. “The way I figure the best way to trap her will be to siphon off her power. Our problem with her has always been that she has more mojo than us. So let’s channel that away from her into the forest near the Niobrara wildlife refuge.”

“Really? You want to grow a forest out of evil demon energy?”Sam snorted, flipping though the notes Dean had out on the table. They were all settled into the kitchen this morning. They had spent the last few days awkwardly brainstorming and easing into their new group dynamic. It had been an uncomfortable weekend to say the least. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you ever heard of purification? Besides, it would be too hard to just believe that I’m strong enough to beat her, but if I have the very earth on my side? I don’t see how we could lose. And it would be a real sort of poetic justice if she was taken down by the very thing she wants to destroy.”

Cas stared at the diagrams Dean had sketched out. He was silent for a long moment as the Winchesters watched for his reaction. “The spellwork seems sound,” he finally said. “But so much of it requires Dean to have the will and the skill to hold the spell. Whatever his inborn talents might be I share Sam’s concerns over his novice abilities.”

“Well that’s where I come in,” Benny smiled. “If you can’t have faith in Dean at least trust his judgment when it comes to me. I ain’t no novice witch.”

Dean nodded. “As my familiar, Benny provides not only damn good advice but an anchor for my spells. Anything I create to stop Abaddon will be proofed by him. I’m telling you guys, we have this in the bag.”

The location Benny had found for the showdown was perfect. An abandoned factory at the edge of an unpopulated forest, there would be no chance of civilian casualties as well as having the advantage of everything Dean wanted for the spell. There was a polluted little lake, ruined for life by the illegal dumping that the failing factory had started, knowing even then it wouldn’t cut enough corners to save the business. All in all the lake, forest, and isolated area made it the perfect place to take down one of hell's biggest and baddest.

All that was left was for them to set up the spell.

Ten cups of coffee couldn’t make Dean happy to get up at dawn to hike around a forest just to look at trees. But since he was the witch  with the actual mojo in this hunt it was up to him to find the best points for the spell. Life was so unfair sometimes. 

“All aboard,” Dean muttered, shifting carefully on Benny’s back. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to get around, but pokey bear shoulders aside it was pretty cool to feel the sheer power underneath him as Benny took off in a loping run through the forest. 

“Turn left at that stump,” Dean told his familiar, leaning down into thick , brown fur as the bear swerved left. They had a bit of forest to cover, but Dean found it hard to focus. He had been working on his magic for over half a year now. Sometimes he still forgot he was one of _ them _ now. Benny had been patient, completely unruffled in the face of Dean’s midlife identity crisis. It had helped more than Dean cared to think that Benny could not only provide comfort food, but also transform into a badass bear when Dean needed a physical reminder that he hadn’t just made all this up. 

_ “You keep thinking such heavy thoughts back there I might start worrying about you squashing me,” _ Benny laughed. Dean poked at him with his boot.

“Do you really think we’re ready for this?” Dean asked, clutching tight to his familiar as Benny climbed around a fallen tree. 

_ “Well, what do you think? Is your whole life’s worth of hunter training going to be enough to stop one overpowered demon?” _

Dean thumped Benny on the shoulder, pointing to a large tree standing off on its own. Benny slowed, his gait becoming so loping that it was like riding a ship in a storm. 

“I know I’m good at hunting, you beast. I just don’t know about the magic shit. It’s bigger than keeping a cup of coffee warm, or making a creep think he’s making out with a hot chick when he’s really sucking face with a lamp post.”

Benny halted by the tree while Dean reached out to touch a branch. It was a good spot to start the pentagram. The tree tingled pleasantly to the touch, like happy embers in a fire. Dean pulled out his map and phone, planting a big red X on their current coordinates. 

_ “Don’t be daft. I told you that just because you’ve only just started calling yourself a witch doesn’t mean the magic just recently appeared. It’s been there the whole time. I’m sure you wouldn’t have gotten out of half the crazy you’ve jumped into without that magic bit’a you,”  _ He shook himself, almost dislodging Dean, who swore and swatted at him. _ “Leave the guiding to me. I won’t let you make a mistake. We’ll be fine. You have a familiar, a hunter, and an angel on your side. You just worry about keeping focus.” _


	5. Chapter 5

It took them a week to get everything prepared to Dean's satisfaction. He had Cas remove the concrete floor of the warehouse, leaving bare dirt to mark the sigils on. Sam was regulated to marking duty. It was actually Cas' idea to recreate something like Colt's railroad pentagram once Dean had explained his plan. Sam would carve binding symbols into trees at the five points of the pentacle, and Dean would make spell bags to be planted with each tree. It wasn’t part of the main spell, just a secondary precaution, but they all felt it added to the concept Dean was trying to build.

With their combined efforts they were soon able to set their attack into motion.

They started at dawn, on the advice of Benny. “Dawn brings hope,” he had said, standing at the door to the factory as he surveyed the space. “We’re the good guys here, so let’s make that clear.”

The four of them stood in position, Sam, Cas, and Benny on three points around Dean, who stood almost in the center, right on the edge of the summoning circle.

All four of them held knives blessed by both Cas and Dean, not meant for killing, but binding.

Dean stood for a second at the center of the circle, composing himself. He could feel his bond with Benny, more focused now than it was when they first met. Months of work and time spent together had turned the butterflies into like, attack hawks or something. The soaring feeling remained in the bond, but he could now direct it toward whatever needed his energies.

They were ready.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Dean cut a thin slice down his forearm, watching carefully as the blood from the cut gathered along the knife edge. With a deliberate step forward, he held the knife over the summoning circle where Abaddon would arrive.

"Come and get it, bitch," he said, flicking the blood into the circle with a sharp cut down.

To their credit, nobody moved from position as flames leapt up from the summoning circle and a vicious howling filled the room, as Abaddon was dragged from wherever she had been lurking into their trap.

"Winchesters!" She roared in fury as the flames cleared. "You dare!"

"That's right," Dean said, grimly. "You've been fucking around too long on earth. Time to join it."

"You'll never be rid of me," she sneered, unable to do anything but taunt them as the trio raised their knives, each making a thin slice against their arms to wet their blades. "Even if your spell works now I  _ will  _ be back. I will make your descendants bleed for this."

Dean could feel her, that oiled, black demonic energy sliding around the edges of her prison looking for an escape. He reached out his own energy, wrapping it around Benny a few times like a good length of rope. 

"No. It's time you were finally unmade. We're going to put all that energy to better use."

_ “It's time for her to go,”  _ Benny rumbled firmly in his mind _. _

With that, Dean plunged his blade into the ground. A bright light shot out from the hole it made, reaching towards Abaddon like the roots of a tree. As the light touched the edge of the circle Benny, Cas, and Sam all followed suit, their blades hitting the earth just as Abaddon let out a final scream of fury.

The building exploded. 

Dean was the only one left standing as his power rooted him to the spot. The light burst up from the summoning circle, blowing the roof off the building and twisting out in a thousand directions. He had to close his eyes against the brightness as the spell drained Abaddon, spreading her energy into a forest of leaves and branches. In the space of a full minute the spell tree grew, taking shape and creating a new roof out of foliage. The light died down, leaving in its place new, green life.

Dean heard Sam choke out a laugh, relief evident in his brother’s face when he turned around to grin at him. 

“It worked,” Sam said, stepping toward the tree to look at it in awe. “You’re some kind of fucking genious witch, Dean!”

“I told you so,” Dean replied, staggering over to Benny, giddy with his success. “I kick ass, you guys did great, no more big bad. I want to sleep for a fucking month.”

Benny laughed, catching Dean in a hug and leaning against him. They were both drained, but it was worth it.

“I’m up for some hibernation,” Benny grunted into Dean’s neck, wobbling with him to get a better look at the tree. “We can sleep till next spring. I’m sure we’ve eaten enough pie and takeout this last week to last us.”

“Dude,” Sam looked at the pair incredulously. “We just finished a fight that’s been the last what, ten years of our life and all you can think about is sleep?”

Dean grinned dopily up at his brother. “That’s exactly right, Sammy. I’m a free man now. Nothing hanging over me trying to kill me just this moment, so sue me if I want to take a nap. I have a lifetime of sleep deprivation to catch up on and a bear who just happens to enjoy a good cuddle.”

With that he saluted his baby brother, turning on his heel to stagger back to his car, Benny being more of a hinderance than a help as he got all up in his space. Maybe someday Sam would get it, that you could enjoy the small things in life without trying to twist yourself up trying to fit into something you’re not. It was hard for everyone to figure out, especially Winchesters. Dean hoped he would though. Being a witch wasn’t the only way to find self acceptance. 

“Come one you big lug. I need a sandwich, a nap, and to ride you into the sunset, and not necessarily in that order,” Dean said, packing his grumbling familiar into the passenger seat. 

They got back home just in time to creep in before noon. The pair trudged tiredly in, throwing bags on the floor and kicking off shoes haphazardly. Without a word Dean took Benny’s hand, leading him back to his room. Benny came willingly, shrugging out of his hat and jacket before reaching out to pull off Dean’s jacket. 

The pocket started shaking and Benny fished a hand in before tossing the garment over the back of a chair. Dean’s phone was ringing, screen lighting up with Sam’s name. 

Dean took it from Benny, flipped it to silent, and chucked it across the room. Benny gave a surprised grunt at the sound of something cracking as it hit the wall but Dean just backed him into the bed. He kissed him, sloppy and deep as he tugged off his clothes. The button’s didn’t want to cooperate though, and Dean hissed in frustration. He pulled back, swinging a leg over to straddle his familiar and gave a sharp whistle. Like magic, the buttons flew off and the ever present suspenders fell loosely off Benny’s shoulders. 

Benny raised an eyebrow and Dean grinned. 

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” he said, pulling off his own shirt more carefully. “Now.  I think I promised you something earlier.”

“You’re so good to me,” Benny said, sliding his hands across Dean’s naked hips and around under his pants. He slipped the jeans down, hands cupping Dean’s ass as Dean ground down on the familiar’s still covered bulge. 

Dean leaned over, pulling open the side table drawer and groping around till he found the lube. Wiggling, he kicked off his jeans, handing Benny the bottle. “Get those fingers in me.”

Benny chuckled in that feral growl of his, popping the cap off with his teeth and liberally lubing up his fingers. Wasting no time he slipped a thick digit in, and Dean groaned long and loud as the finger rubbed circles along his hole. He fell forward a bit, bracing both palms on his familiar’s chest. Benny was more than capable of supporting his weight, and he simply pulled Dean in for a kiss, free hand cupping the back of Dean’s neck as his other hand took advantage of the new angle.

Dean writhed back down onto the fingers. He felt full, their bond a solid presence in the air, but he was so empty. 

Impatiently, he sat up, breaking the kiss to rip off Benny’s pants and sink himself down onto his cock with no further prep. He wanted to feel it. To feel how alive and victorious they were tonight.

“M’not gonna last. Don’t want to last,” Dean panted, circling his hips a few times, his cock leaving wet beads along Benny’s stomach. “Wanna come now.”`

Benny grunted, placing his hands on Dean’s hips as Dean began to bounce up and down. “Come on then, let’s get you that happy ending, Cher.” 

Dean just moaned, focused on the sweet rhythm that would scratch his itch. Benny helped, pulling his knees up to brace them both as he fucked up to meet Dean.

It was sloppy and perfect, over in a blissful moment. 

“I get to stay with you forever, right?” Dean gasped, falling to lay beside Benny, heedless of come and sweat on them both. “Because I wasn’t kidding about sleeping for a year.”

Benny hummed, throwing an arm over Dean and pulling him close. “Don’t worry, Cher. I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> And that is the end. 
> 
> Come say hello. I am a lonely person.  
> ambersagen.tumblr.com


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